


'Tis The Season!

by Betray802



Category: G. I. Joe (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-02
Updated: 2012-11-02
Packaged: 2017-11-17 15:11:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/552926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Betray802/pseuds/Betray802
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on what was once my mother's favorite 'modern' Christmas song. Funny how now that SHE'S the Grandma, it's suddenly not so funny anymore!</p>
            </blockquote>





	'Tis The Season!

Mad River Glen is a ski resort in VT, and the only one that still refuses to allow ‘boarders. A true Vermonster knows not to slap a _'Mad River Glen, Ski It If You Can'_ bumper sticker on their vehicle, unless they actually HAVE.

***********************************************************************************************************

 

The call came in about 1145, just as Lifeline was trying to guess his chances of getting to the chow hall.

 

"Infirmary."

 

"Hey, Lifeline, this here's Cross-Country, we need ya down ta th' Motor Pool. Daytona jus' took a phone call from home, an' now she won't quit laughin'. I cain't even tell ya what's wrong, she started afore she even hung up th' phone. Like she breathed in a whole tank o’ laughin' gas."

 

"I'm on my way." After telling Doc where he was going, Lifeline headed out. As he traveled, he tried to think of what might have happened. Daytona wasn't a cheerful prankster like Shipwreck or Clutch, but she wasn't deadly serious like Low-Light or Deep-Six either.

 

He arrived at the Motor Pool to find the Marine in question curled up in one corner of the garage, rolled up on the floor like a shrimp, arms around her middle, tears pouring down her face and helpless laughter rolling out like the waves on a beach. Snake-Eyes and Timber were standing guard over her, but Snakes raised his arms in a 'don't ask me' gesture.

 

"Snake-Eyes showed up after she got started. He ain't been able ta get nothin' outta her neither."

 

Lifeline looked around. "Who answered the phone?"

 

"I did." Cover Girl stepped forward. "It was her brother, Mark. He said he wouldn't have called her here if it wasn't important, but he really needed to talk to her. I figured if someone in her family had died, Doc would have been down here to tell her. So I handed her the phone and went back to what I was doing. Next thing I know she's like this. Cross had to hang up the phone."

 

"Only thing I got outta him was tha' 'ventually she'd calm down 'nough ta say what happened. I didn't figure it takin' this long, though."

 

By now Daytona was laughing so hard she was having trouble breathing. Lifeline looked at Snake-Eyes. "I'm going to have to sedate her."

 

Snake-Eyes nodded.  _< < I thought so. I have no idea what's the problem. >>_

 

Daytona showed no sign of acknowledgement as she was tranquilized, except that the laughter finally abated as the sedative took effect. Snake-Eyes scooped her up in his arms to carry her to the Infirmary, scowling underneath his mask at the slurred words that slipped out as she finally succumbed to the drugs.

 

" ... it's not Christmas without Grandma ... heeheehee ... "

 

********************

 

It took Snow Job, Daytona's fellow 'Vermonster', to solve the mystery, after Dial-Tone had tried re-dialing the number Mark Hunton had called from, only to be told it was the University of Vermont frat house Mark called home, and that Mark had _'gnawed his way out of the cage and escaped down to Mad River Glen for the weekend.'_ Snow Job checked first at the Motor Pool and then made his way to the Infirmary.

 

"Hey, Lifeline. How's Daytona?"

 

"Hey, Snow Job. I'm keeping her sedated until I find out what's up. Snakes is staying with her. Do you have any idea?" He scowled slightly as Snow Job's face lit up with an unholy glee.

 

"One of my aunts goes to church with Daytona's grandmother. I just talked to one of my cousins. Mrs. Hunton lives right close to the University of Vermont campus and the campus extension farm. Apparently somebody made arrangements to have some reindeer brought in, in order to have real reindeer-drawn sleigh rides out at Shelburne Farms. Why they were having the rides in Shelburne and boarding the animals in South Burlington when there's perfectly good stabling facilities at Shelburne Farms ... " Snow Job shrugged. "Must have been organized by flatlanders. Vermont needs much stricter immigration laws. In any case, they were putting the reindeer in trailers and the extension farm and one got loose. It was spooked by a backfiring truck and took off running, right down the street Daytona's grandmother lived on. Mrs. Hunton had just stepped out into her backyard to chase off the neighbor's Corgi dog when the reindeer came barreling through the place." Snow Job stopped, cracking a giant shit-eating grin, waiting to see if Lifeline would figure it out.

 

"Are you trying to tell me ... that Daytona's grandmother ... was ... _literally_ ... run over by a reindeer?!?"

 

"According to Tracy – that my cousin – Mrs. Hunton is perfectly delightful to her friends, the church, her chosen charities and total strangers. Apparently she's not, however, the nicest person in the world to have to be blood-related to. I guess once she comes out of it, you'll have to ask Daytona for the particulars. I told Tracy to send me a copy of the Burlington Not-So Free Press, if they write it up."

 

********************

 

The incident got front-page treatment in the Burlington newspaper, and Daytona's family sent copies as well. Reba Hunton hadn't been seriously injured, and the reindeer had been caught by UVM students who had given chase on their Morgans before it could reach the busyness of Williston Road.

 

"I can't believe you think this is funny." Falcon shook his head as Daytona leaned over the pool table in the rec room.

 "You've never met my grandmother, Falcon. Not everyone grew up in a Norman Rockwell painting, you know. Some of us unfortunate bastards grew up in a Stephen King novel. What the article didn't mention was the old witch trying to have my stepmother declared mentally unfit to raise kids, simply 

and only because my sister said she'd rather go to Catholic mass for Christmas than the Methodist services. Amber was forced to explain to the social-services vampires that she's got a crush on a boy in her catechism class. You know how embarrassing that is to a 13-year-old girl? And last year when Mama Sue took all of the kids to Denver on vacation, both Grandma and my Aunt Judy tried to insinuate to my father that Mama Sue had traveled 2,000 miles with 6 children in tow, in order to visit some adulterous boyfriend."

 

Lady Jaye was able to find humor in the situation as well. "Vince, do you know what I'd pay to see that happen to my grandmother? Snooty old bag. Did they say what became of the reindeer?"

 

That got a curious look on Daytona's face, and she propped her stick on the table to page through a now well-worn copy of the Burlington Free Press with a color picture of her grandparents' back yard on the front page. After a few minutes – during which the look on her face only grew that much more bewildered – Daytona looked up.

 

"That's really strange, Jaye, it doesn't say at all."


End file.
